Eyes on A'tuin
by Luigi Esguerra
Summary: Alternate history, what if A'tuin swims into our solar system during the heat of the space race? A general re-write of 'Houston, we have a turtle over here, a big one'.
1. Introduction

This is a rewrite of my 'Houston, we've got a turtle, it's a big one!' fanfiction, a story that asks what if the Discworld were to enter our solar system? It was told through the eyes of how history had seen it, through 'interviews' and 'diaries' with the occasional omnipresent narrator that had researched and re-told parts of the story.

That idea was conceived and written a year ago, and after seeing the reviews and feedback from it, I realized that there were jarring plot holes that needed to be addressed and several story ideas that I have (stupidly, might I add) not explored much upon.

I must admit that the original story was written mostly at the edge of my seat with 'meh' levels of planning when it comes to what happens in the story and how it would be executed, which is why I apologize if it felt rushed towards the end, I was running out of ideas by that point.

So, if you have read the original version and have noticed all the mistakes that tarnished your reading experience then I assure and hope that this remake fixes most if not everything. If you have not read the original story then I suggest you keep reading this story and only read the first one if you are curious as to what these issues were.

I would also like to note that the original concept would be an alternate history told through the likes of Eyes Turned Skyward (seriously, it's a good alternate history story) but with Discworld, the concept grew into a story with a lot of concepts, some of them were right-on-the-nail while others I wondered how it got penned in the first place.

All the technical and minor historical details, if you're into those sort of things, shall be included in footnotes or in the Appendix.


	2. The End of it all

No one knew precisely how grave one fateful night could be, that is until that dreaded time happened in a world where the supposed 'good guys' are supposed to be triumphant over the 'bad guys', where time and time again every nasty opponent was to be defeated by the heroes of the story, but then that cycle will be shattered and things will be different.

Preston, a man with no family name for reasons that he wanted to become a doctor and having a brass sign spell out his first name and surname would have cost him a fortune, had been standing guard in the Baron's castle, which was his job after all though not his preferred one.

He heard footsteps, particularly those of heavy boots striking the flagstones of the castle, and then he saw that girl, that one with a pair of sharp and striking eyes that matched her realistic and practical personality, he wished he could reach out to her and speak to her.

He tried, "T-…Tiffany? I mean, Miss Aching?" he stammered, somehow the figure stopped with her back faced to him. He felt a glimmer of hope, this was his chance to speak to the girl that caught his attention ever since he first laid eyes on her.

"Look, um…Miss Aching, I'm just wondering why you're here, that's all." Preston scratched the back of his neck.

The head of the girl slowly turned around, but to Preston's horror, her eyes were black and her face had become grotesque, she was a witch but a young and beautiful one in her teenage years, this was not Tiffany.

Preston began walking backwards until he felt the wall behind him, "Who are you?"

The thing turned her body and as she stepped into the moonlight, she was hideous with her unkempt claw-like nails, warts on some parts of her skin, and she looked like an old hag, no she looked like a beast, a monster.

Dark smoke emanated from somewhere behind her and a large creature with no eyes surrounded her like a shadow, at a flick of Tiffany's wrist, the shadow flew straight at Preston.

In a blink, he felt something shaking him and calling his name, reality resumed.

"Come on, lad, what's wrong with ye?" it was one of the other guards of the Baron.

"I-.." Preston felt his forehead and looked at his arms, he was sweating profusely, "nothing…"

"You were saying the witch's name, Tiffany." said the guard, who then sighed, "Whatever it is, go get dressed, it's going to be the the new Baron's wedding and we have this shift…I mean you're now the Watchman of the Chalk…so, er…we can…have a long and needed dr-..break."

Preston nodded, it was just a nightmare and he was sure that it was not real, right? Well the days were becoming weirder and weirder, it all began with the weird Chalk fair and the rolling cheese, and then poor pregnant Amber was beaten up badly by her own father into miscarrying, and now the Old Baron was dead and his son was taking over, but not before some accusations thrown at Tiffany.

About those accusations, it was not just about Tiffany but it was also about the witches in general, people were becoming very afraid of them, and Preston knew that if things go sour, it will end up like what nearly happened to Seth Petty but this time the target is Tiffany and there would be no one to stop the angry music.

But then he remembered that one time Tiffany went stiff and told him that something was chasing her or what not, but then he knew that it was witch business and he had no stake in it, but he still took care of her and made sure she was safe as she got some sleep.

He shook his head and as he entered the hall where the guests of the funeral - who now were practically waiting for the wedding to happen the next day - had been standing a few moments ago, he saw Tiffany standing there with her back facing him, he approached her with caution.

Tiffany turned around, it was her alright, they both heard the clock strike midnight. She told him that she has to go and kill that monster, Preston on the other hand swore to defend her.

The witch agreed and Preston remembered them flying to wherever the Baron was, they found the Baron alright, drunk, naked, and in a pigsty. It all felt so fast when Tiffany told Preston that he must leave now for sake of his safety as well as hers on her broomstick.

He went back but he decided not to go far, instead he brought the broomstick down to just behind a house not far from the fields of battle, he wanted to see what would happen, he wanted to see Tiffany safe.

He laid the broomstick against the wall and laid down on the ground, Tiffany might spot him or worse, the monster that was chasing her. He saw Tiffany, Leticia, and the Baron saying something, but then he was interrupted by a man who suddenly appeared next to him apparently.

"I know now what this witching business is." the man said.

Preston looked to his right and saw a man with a pair of binoculars and he was dressed in a suit, "Wait, aren't you one of the Baron's more recent assistants?"

The man nodded, "You bet." he said in a strong accent that struck Preston as being strongly Morporkian, he remembered when this finely dressed man went into the castle and offered his services as a butler or something, it was not at all clear.

"So what have you known and how?"

"You don't need to know how, all you need to know is that the monster is the Cunning Man and trust me when I say that Tiffany must win this or else." said the man.

It was all a hazy memory for the two of them, for the man it was like a biblical battle but this time it went south, "Preston, run, run back to the castle and lock yourself in there now!"

Preston was stunned, "I'm sorry, what happened?"

"Tiffany lost, and with her all of the witches, now just run damn it!" said the man.

"But how?"

The man sighed, up ahead in the distance a conflagration happened and somehow the Baron and Leticia were knocked out of the ring of fire but Tiffany was nowhere to be seen.

Preston grabbed the broomstick and flew back to the castle, all the while the man saw the fire die down and it revealed Tiffany wearing a black dress and with black eyes and black fingernails, she was not Tiffany, she was now the Cunning Man's plaything.

When Preston returned, to the witches, who were eagerly waiting for the return of Tiffany, did he tell, "Ladies…and gentlemen…" he was panting, "Tiffany…is…dead!"

A loud murmur broke across the hall, Nanny Ogg turned to Granny, "Esme, what does this mean?"

Granny Weatherwax remained still and as silent as an iron pole, "We must kill her…if we could."


	3. Part 01 - Apollo Applications

It became a surprise to all the observers at Capitol Hill on the 15th of August 1968 when the US House of Representatives voted to increase the budget of NASA and promptly had a resolution tabled that would overturn their previous resolution authorizing the President to wage war in Vietnam.

Little did anyone knew that there had been several top secret meetings between NASA, the National Reconnaissance Office, and the two branches of government; the Executive, and the Legislative, the matter at hand was extraordinary and the circumstances of how it was first announced was also in itself an extraordinary event.

Sources from the White House had recounted several times how the the morning of the 23rd of September went, President Lyndon B. Johnson probably just had the most frustrating night when he was briefed of the situation in dealing with the Tet Offensive in Vietnam, and he was not his usual self the morning after.

It was said that President Johnson sat down behind his desk as usual at half past seven looking as if he had never gotten any sleep, his eyes were drowsy, he was irritable, and the last thing he wanted was bad news of anything.

His Chief of Staff knocked on the door a few minutes after the President had entered his office and while he was reading through the memos from his Cabinet, the President allowed them in with a simple "Come in".

The White House Chief of Staff came in with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and a man assigned to the top secret National Reconnaissance Office, which officially speaking does not exist. "Mister President, these gentlemen have something urgent."

"If this is about the war in Vietnam then I think I get the picture." said Johnson.

"No, Mister President," the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs spoke as he and the man from the N.R.O. sat down in front of the desk, "this is about something disturbing from space."

Johnson glanced at the representative of the N.R.O, who was wearing a suit and showed no icons or symbols of his office, "Where is the Administrator of NASA?"

"He is on his way, he has not been briefed yet however it does fall under the supervision of his agency." said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, "This here is Mister Macguire of the National Reconnaissance Office, they handle the spy satellites."

"I'm sorry, but I thought they pointed spy satellites downwards not upwards." said the President with a smirk

Macguire replied with a bit of a smirk, "Well, sir, we were de-orbiting one of our experimental satellites when the camera caught a glimpse of something in deep space. Now, you must now, sir, that this experimental satellite is as effective as a space telescope with its high resolution and high zoom camera capabilities."

The man laid a dossier on the desk, the President leafed through it and couldn't quite understand what he was seeing at first; a zoomed in speck of an object that was shaped like a turtle with something flat above it. "It is unusually shaped." said the President.

"We have some scientists in our team and they were nuclear about it, while we don't have those fancy spectrometers and other scientific equipment, this photo is the first of hopefully a handful of photos of this unusual object, hopefully when NASA's own satellites pick it up." said Macguire.

"What does your scientists say about it?" asked the President.

"Well, sir, they are sure that it's not just some plain old asteroid or a planet, they were still calculating its probable location when I left the Receiving Office." said Macguire, "Initial estimates would put it somewhere near the orbit of Mars, in terms of distance from the Earth."

Johnson was said to have spent the time staring at each of the photos and trying to comprehend what it was all supposed to mean, "An alien planet." he ended up saying just as the Administrator of NASA entered the Oval Office.

The three men glanced up at the Administrator of NASA, "Sir, I do believe that our satellites have spotted something…unusual?"

"Come take a look at this." said the President, tapping the dossier which sat on his desk.

The Administrator looked at the pictures and he nodded with eager interest, "Mister President, we need to run this through the laboratory, try to understand what it is." he said.

"We can give you the location of the object in the night sky, have your satellites with its scientific sensors spot it." said Macguire.

The Administrator nodded, "Yes, indeed, we'll need those data."

"What should we do about it if…there's life on it?" asked the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

Johnson glanced at the Administrator, and then at Macguire, and then back at the Chairman, before addressing all three, "Gentlemen, we should investigate further before the Soviets get their grubby hands on planning anything."

"You're right, sir." said the Chairman.

"I will be speaking to my directors about this one." said the Administrator, "May I have this copy?" he asked Macguire.

The man from the N.R.O. nodded, "Yes, you may." he said.

The Administrator filed the pictures back into the folder and left the office with the unusual dossier without saying anything else other than "Goodbye, gentlemen, see you later."

When the door had clicked shut, the Chairman faced the President and said, "Mister President, we need to mount an expedition onto this alien planet if we could."

The President remained stoic but he nodded, "I'm not entirely sure if we could but I know one thing is for certain, this will affect the incoming election and by God whatever happens it would make the Moon landing look like a boring walk in the park."

The pictures were processed further in an imaging analysis facility at Cape Canaveral, and when things became clear that they were dealing with something different, a space object that showed a hint of having an atmosphere based on how sunlight bounced off of it.

This led to NASA deciding to have some of their deep space satellites turn towards the unusual object to have a much clearer picture of what it was, this included spectrometers and other sensors that could acquire more data than simple pictures.

It took them a month or so to collect solid data and come up with a definite answer, or at least something to tell Congress about, but first they had to make a decision as to what plan or option should they present to Congress, and convince them to fund it.

They could just leave it be and have it fly towards deep space, however based on their calculations, the space object seemed to be in an orbit around the sun and it's not going anywhere, but then sometimes it would suddenly swim towards another direction, throwing all forms of orbital calculation into chaos.

If it does stay in the solar system, they could also forget about exploring it, but then what if the Soviets end up discovering it as well and decided to mount an exploration, and then a military invasion of the planet if it so happened that it can support life on its surface? It was considered to be a huge security risk and a slap in the face should it happen.

But then what will the United States do exactly? Send a satellite to orbit it? Maybe send an impact probe to collect data? But what if the next President declares that they need to send people onto the unusual planet? These questions clouded the minds of the higher ups of NASA, they ended up preparing for all possible scenarios.

In the weeks leading to the fateful decision to swing towards NASA and away from the Department of Defense when it came to the budget, the Administrator of NASA, along with Wernher Von Braun, the heads of the recently established Apollo Application Program, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs were invited to a closed-door hearing by a joint-committee hearing composed of Congressmen and Senators.

The Committee room was empty of outsiders, only high ranking and senior lawmakers and the invited officers of NASA were allowed inside. The Administrator of NASA gave each lawmaker a copy of their report before speaking to them.

"Ladies and gentlemen of this joint-committee, in the weeks since satellites of the United States has spotted this alien world, we have focused our orbital and scientific resources in analyzing this world and suffice to say, it can support life." was all the Administrator had to say, "Please refer to Appendix A through F of your documents, that is all I have to say with regards to our scientific findings."

The lawmakers remained silent as they leafed through the clearer images and through data given by NASA, that is until a Senator requested if he could ask a question, "According to your recommendations, you say you can mount a manned expedition onto this planet?"

"Yes, Mister Senator." replied the Administrator, "Mister Von Braun will be reporting on his recommendations when it comes to the details of the options, whether to send people there or to simply send a probe."

"What does the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs has to say about this?" asked a Congressman.

"Well, Mister Congressman, we are convinced that this poses a security threat if the Soviets try to do anything to get to it." said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

"Well, could they?" came the question from a Senator.

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs nodded, "The Air Force has reconnaissance photos of an unusually large rocket within Soviet territory, particularly over their launchpad at Baikonur, it was stated to have the same capabilities as our Moon rocket, the Saturn V."

The statement of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs came as a surprise to everyone, including the scientists and engineers of NASA, "When were these supposed photos taken?"

"1963." answered the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, three years before the first Saturn V was launched.

"So are you saying that, by now, they could have been preparing for a Moon mission as much as we are doing right now?" asked a Senator.

"Yes, Senator, I'm afraid that our Intelligence places the probability of a mission attempt within the next three years at seventy five percent." said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, "If they get their hands on this planet first, and if it ends up orbiting close to Earth, we could be bombarded from space and we'll all be defenseless."

The lawmakers remained silent, all contemplating the very concept of the Soviets getting the upper hand in space, "Do we have a plan for a manned mission?" asked the Senate Majority Leader, who was a member of the committee.

The men of NASA glanced at one another, they knew that they had the Senate's attention, and since both Houses of Congress were under control of the same party, if they managed to convince the Senate Majority Leader, then they can easily convince the House Majority Leader.

"Yes, we do have a plan." began Wernher Von Braun, the man who brought the United States to space and restored their pride after the failure of Vanguard 1.

Von Braun had his artists and designers draw several large colored pictures of the designs and how the mission would most likely unfold. "We will need to have a rocket powerful enough to send both a long range spacecraft, a cruiser if you will, and a lander, and have enough fuel aboard the deep space craft to bring the crew back home."

The first image depicted a breakdown of the Saturn V with the planned modifications installed, "As you can see here, we can achieve this necessity for a powerful rocket based on existing launch systems, however in order to do so we need to develop technologies that are as of now still in the drawing board."

"We need to develop a solid rocket motor or booster large enough and powerful enough to rival the current output of an F-1 engine, we also need to develop and build the improved F-1A engines, as well as reinforcing the first stage to be able to take the extra force of acceleration."

"As for the second stage, we need to develop and build either the J-2S or the J-2S aerospike, or even a brand new and more efficient engine altogether, such as the HG-3 or the RS-25. As for the third stage, besides the needed improved orbital engine, we will also need to stretch the third stage slightly and to build it out of different materials to make it lighter and stronger against the radiation in deep space."

"Finally, we will need to develop a habitat for the crew as well as an advanced version of the current Apollo Command and Service Module, and a much bigger and advanced lander."

Von Braun ended his presentation with a few words which he carefully chose so as to leave an impression on the lawmakers, "That is what we need, as to whether or not we could prevent Soviet domination of the entire Earth is all up to the budget you allocate to this program, thank you."

The answer came on the morning of the 15th of August 1968 in what was considered to be the biggest surprise to come out of Congress, a budget allocation to NASA of nine hundred million dollars, up from 458 million dollars, some of which they took from the military.

The news came as a big surprise and a shock to opponents of NASA, mainly those who think that they should focus their budget on other things once they landed a man on the Moon.

The Administrator of NASA decided to hold a press conference at Kennedy Space Center on the very afternoon after the bill was passed, in which they decided to bare it all to the public, that they found an alien planet capable of sustaining life and that they will mount a manned mission to it.

Up until that point in time, NASA was mute on the matter and did not disclose anything about the unusual planet to the public, however due to the erratic orbital nature of the planet, some independent astronomers have spotted the unusual object with some claiming it to have the shape of a turtle with four elephants on its shell holding up a flat world on their backs.

The tabloids have coined the term 'Discworld' to describe the unusual planet, and it was on the afternoon of the 15th of August when NASA confirmed the suspicions of some members of the public, "Ladies and gentlemen, as you may have heard from some independent astronomers, there is an alien world with a flat disc for a surface sitting on top of what looked like elephants standing on the back of a turtle, and we are confirming this to be true. We have been tasked to…launch a man to the surface of this planet and return him back to Earth."

From there onwards, the media-coined term Discworld became the talk of every household in the days and weeks following the announcement, enough to make it a sudden but important factor in the upcoming elections where the Democratic candidate was at that point in time lopsided against Richard Nixon, the Republican candidate, at the opinion polls.

However the final presidential debate that took place in October, just as the momentum of the news of the discovery of the Discworld reached its peak, swiftly changed the outcome of the election which was held the month after.

The question 'What will your administration be doing with the Discworld?' was asked by the moderator, Nixon responded in the negative and promised to return the budget to the military, meanwhile the Democratic candidate, Jason Muffley, answered in the positive and directly challenged Nixon's position head on, citing security issues and how the Soviets most likely already had plans to get there first.

In the days leading up to the polls in November, more discoveries on the planetoid were unearthed by analysts, it became very apparent that this planetoid had an atmosphere, had an orbital influence, and even had a small moon and - unbelievably - a small star.

The shape of the small world had become clearer, it was obviously a flat world, a disc-world, and it was a lot like Earth with the exception of its size and shape, it was said to be smaller than Earth - the flat 'disc' part being only ten thousand kilometers in diameter, much like the Pacific Ocean.

These pieces of information were spread quickly through the offices of NASA and the other offices of the government, and pretty much also the offices of the editors of major newspapers across the country, and then the world; this wasn't just some plain asteroid, it was a planet!

The reactions varied wildly but can be categorized into three; there are those who are worried about it, those who want to land men on it, and those who want to leave it untouched, no one was crazy enough not to care about it.

This issue had reached the offices of the representatives at the United Nations in New York, two General Assembly sessions were dedicated to discussing the issue, and one Security Council meeting had the topic as its main issue.

Pressure mounted on the nations of the world as to how they should respond, or whether or not they should even respond, historians of today would point the finger at the Soviets for making the issue slightly of a much bigger problem than it should have.

For one, the Soviets should not have scolded the United States in the Security Council for attempting to land on the Discworld, accusing them of using the mission for military purposes and in direct abeyance of the Outer Space treaty.

The one thing about geopolitical blackmail is simply through espionage and intelligence, the United States had used the chance to reveal that Soviet Cosmonauts were armed with shotguns and they umped on the chance to justify a full blown interplanetary mission, they reasoned 'If the Soviets were arming Cosmonauts for a potential invasion, then we can do whatever the hell they're doing; do whatever we want in space!'

In reality, the Cosmonauts were armed with shotguns in order to defend themselves in cases where their Soyuz capsule would end up way of course, say ten or fifty kilometers from civilization in the Siberian Tundra in the middle of winter, and a hungry bear is nearby.

But the American public did not buy the Soviet explanation, not with the skewed representation of space, the image seared in everyone's imaginations was that of Cosmonauts shooting down Apollo capsules in space or landing on US home soil and conducting acts of terror.

Should the newspaper polls be of any help, they showed that more of the American public were in support of landing a mission on the Discworld immediately, with some demanding for a proper and long term mission, and with it also the final nail on the coffin of Nixon's campaign.

As for the Russian public, they already thought that their space program was way behind the United States to even care, however there were demands to try to catch up with the United States, and these came from way up in the Kremlin, forcing the Soviets to resurrect the N-1 rocket program even after the death of Sergei Korolev, the man who brought humans to space.

It was an election dubbed as 'The election that did not have to happen as it was too obvious' by the media, Nixon failed to win a single state and Muffley scored the largest vote count in both the popularity and electoral votes in U.S. history, not to mention the big blow the Republicans were dealt with, going from being a large minority with several key allies in the Democrat side, to a mere speck in the numbers.

As 1969 came, President Muffley made it his first marching order to the United States to land a man on the Discworld and bring him back to Earth, and also to pull out of Vietnam, period. It was met with applause and support from everybody, or at least those who were in power.

It was there that the destiny of humanity was sealed, they are to land on an alien world, whatever the cost may be.


	4. Part 02 - Wings of Candle Wax

As with the crises faced by the Apollo program, the ambitious goal to venture into this unusual planet was dealt with several blows, some of which were severe enough to warrant doubts about the feasibility of the program, most importantly when lives were at stake and lost.

After the success of Apollo 11, a presidential committee was formed to lead the U.S. efforts to venture to the Discworld, the so called 'Disc committee', which was staffed by every top brass from the Air Force, NASA, and key political personalities.

In the same manner that the Apollo program began, some would say in the most disastrous of ways that shook NASA to its core, so did the Apollo-Discworld, and while publicly it was blamed on technical issues, the memoirs of the subsequent Mission Commander, James Kelly, painted a different picture, filled with twists and turns that changed the outcome of the mission forever.

As a man legendary for espousing the image of a frontiersman, wearing a cowboy hat whenever he could in space, and having come from Texas, Commander Kelly became known as that brash cowboy who gave NASA a good kicking.

Excerpts from 'We were there; the memoirs of Commander Kelly'.

This whole effort to mount a mission to the Discworld began with the same crap that poor old Grissom and his men had to suffer and lose their lives for, that same old problem of bureaucrats kissing their bags of money, and kissing whoever's assess to get the money.

Now, after the success of Apollo 11 - God bless Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins! - just when those three Moon men were on their way back to Earth, the Sub-Committee for the Disc Committee on the part of NASA convened, and to my surprise I was invited by the higher ups.

The first meeting was held in the Houston Manned Spaceflight Center, and besides the cheerful atmosphere after managing to land men on the Moon, we still had work to be done in the meeting rooms.

Now, I don't mean to brag but I would say that a old flying dog like me wouldn't really fit in the office, I was a Air Force pilot during the war in Korea. After Uncle Sam had barely gotten out of that scrap, I ended up becoming a test pilot for NASA, mostly playing second fiddle in the Mercury, Gemini, and the Apollo program as backup pilot, I simply hadn't earned my astronaut wings yet.

This soul of being a frontiersman and a soldier runs in the family, my great- great-gramps fought with George Washington, my great-gramps ran to the Union and fought for President Lincoln, my gramps fought in World War I, my dad fought in World War II, and in between Lincoln and World War I, most of my family were frontiersmen, and eventually after the Civil War, we ended up settling in Texas.

Anyhow, we were there in Houston Mission Control, seated around a meeting table with some of probably the most famous faces outside of Hollywood, such as Wernher Von Braun, and other big named honchos like the Administrator of NASA Dr. Paine, and this other guy who was in charge of the planning of the mission along with Dr. Braun.

I also met my other colleagues in the program, and while I was disappointed to have been told that I would be playing second fiddle, again, to the primary crew - Baxter, Tupinov (he's American but he has a Russian background, but it did raise some eyebrows), and Samson - at least I was to be test pilot of the newer versions of the Apollo spacecraft and the new rockets, so at least I'll have my astronaut wings.

The meeting began with the Administrator of NASA setting the agenda, we were to finalize the plan and begin hardware research and development by the end of the year, with the hopes of sending a dedicated deep space probe by Spring of 1970, and hopefully footprints after the last Apollo mission, Apollo 18. (Well, it was supposed to go up only until Apollo 17 but they had plenty of money and, not to mention, influence in Congress.)

I never met any of these men before personally, I only saw them on TV, heard them on the radio, and read about them on the papers and the magazines, so I did not know who was to be the smart one or the noisy one, but I sure did hope there was no one there callous and stupid enough to repeat the same mistakes as Apollo 1.

The first to speak was an engineer and manager of the engine designing department who seemed to have stood heel-and-toe with Von Braun, that meaning they were of the same ranks, and as such his suggestion is as good as that of the brilliant German, I hope.

"Gentlemen, my team is officially proposing that we make good use of the NERVA nuclear rocket engine as our main propulsion system, as well as using an attachable habitat to be carried within the Spacecraft-Lunar Adapter fairing." the man's name was Dr. Robbins, and he was in charge of some office called Space Nuclear Propulsion Office.

He brought with him diagrams of his plan, they were to loft a single Saturn V - Modified Launch Vehicle (it's like a normal Saturn V but with different engines, stretched stages, and solid rocket boosters) with a SIV-N, a nuclear version of the normal third stage, the SIV-B, of a Saturn V.

There is also to be a cylindrical habitat module within the fairing, where the spacecraft - when in orbit - would decouple from, flip around, and dock with the airlock on top of the habitat. From there, the nuclear engine would be ignited and they would be on their way to the Discworld.

"What we see as a big advantage about our proposal is that we only need one Saturn V, just one modified rocket to beat the Soviets to the Disc." was how Robbins summed up his proposal.

There were nods around the table, everyone seemed to have agreed with the idea, like a jury agreeing entirely with their verdict, that is all except for the astronauts - who were waiting for a finalized plan before we start agreeing - and that German, who had the most disapproving look any human being could muster.

"What do you think of it, Dr. Braun?" asked Dr. Robbins.

Dr. Braun took a deep breath and said, "I cannot agree with the plan, I'm sorry, but the NERVA nuclear engine is still in a prototype stage, and it is dangerous. My proposal is similar, however we will be using the new RS-25 engine, and I must admit that we may end up using relatively plenty of Saturn V rockets to serve as tankers and support crafts, but redundancies are necessary to ensure the safety of the astronauts."

"Well, I assure Dr. Braun and everyone in this room that the NERVA engine will be tested again and again until we can consider it safe, anyhow the RS-25 is as experimental as the NERVA." said Dr. Robbins.

Dr. Braun shook his head, "The RS-25 engine has been in development since the early 60's, we were finding more capable alternatives to the J2, and so far we have the HG 3 and the RS-25, both of which are based upon a similar design however the RS-25 is designed to be more efficient and powerful, but it would be heavier than the HG 3, both engines far outclass the J2."

"And when do you think that it would be safe enough to launch this mission?" asked the Administrator of NASA.

"Factoring in astronaut training, construction, research and development, and other technical activities, I would say we would be setting foot on the Disc by 1974." said Dr. Braun.

"And as for our proposal, we will be there by 1971." said Dr. Robbins.

I knew that look on both of their faces, Robbins looked like a man who has everything to prove, meanwhile Dr. Braun had a face of a man who told them everything and was leaving it up to the higher ups to make a wise and sound decision.

The Administrator nodded, "Okay, so I'll be discussing this with the main committee and we'll see what we'll agree to do, I hope that you gentlemen will be submitting papers of your proposals in two days, we'll reconvene when the decision is out."

While we trooped out of that room, I noticed that Dr. Braun seemed to have storm clouds pouring all over him, and I guess it's of little wonder as to how and why I ended up following him into the hallway. "Dr. Braun?"

The German turned around, "Ah, you're one of the astronauts…"

"Backup crew, sir." I said, "I'm James Kelly, and I have heard of your brilliance before and it's an honor to have you aboard the team."

"Well, thank you, Mister Kelly, but as you may not have known or seen just now, I think my design is lopsided with these men." said Dr. Braun, "Simply put it, the NERVA engine is based on a technology which we have not a single second of data on, meanwhile the Kerosene and Liquid Oxygen F-1 engine, the solid rocket motors, and the J2 engine all have hours worth of engine data, and even the RS-25 and the HG 3 engines are built upon the technology of the J2 engine."

"So you're saying it's dangerous?" I asked.

"Yes, the NERVA engine is dangerous and is only safe by 1974 or 1976, more or less…it took us years to develop the F-1 and the J2, after blowing up plenty of test stands, we can't rush any engine, more so a nuclear engine." said Dr. Braun.

"But why don't you think that you would succeed in convincing them?" I asked.

Dr. Braun took a deep breath and said, "Because Robbins' plan is more economical, but how much short cuts can you take before it all breaks? It would look prettier to the committee, to be honest with you, and I wouldn't put my life on it nor any signature on any papers leading to the execution of his plan."

I was left silent, he then spoke, "I'm sorry, I have a meeting with my team, and a proposal to hand to the committee and defend in front of them. At least you can thank your lucky stars, should Robbins' plan be chosen, that you're just a backup crew." And with that, he left me standing there in the hallway.

Dr. Robbins' proposal was decided upon unanimously by the Disc-Committee, it promised a much more ergonomic way of getting people to the Disc compared to Dr. Braun's relatively bulky plan that required several Saturn V rockets and of the brand new Saturn 1C, the successor of the Saturn 1B, to be considered as feasible.

On the same day when Apollo 11 splashed down back to Earth, the 24th of July 1969, the Committee had announced their decision to back Dr. Robbins' plan and ordered the execution of all the necessary tests and research and development immediately.

A minor internal scandal arose when one of its test pilots, James Kelly, was said to have thrown his dented helmet at the direction of Dr Robbins.

From Cmdr. Kelly's memoirs:

I was one of the test pilots for those brand new Saturn 1C rockets that would be used to test prototypes in space, I had the shortest stick in the draw, so to speak, when I was assigned to test fly the Apollo Block III, a shorter variant of the Apollo Block II with built in Radio-Thermal Generators, or RTG, along with a pair of solar panels for back up.

On top of the Block III, my crew and I were to test out a boiler plate, well it's a piece of sh*t anyway so it felt like a boiler plate, of the habitation module which they claimed to be 'nearly operational.'

As for the spanking new Saturn 1C rocket, they made a fuel tank with the same width of an SIV-B and about twice that length, and stuck a big and brand new F1-A engine as its first stage, and then it had an extended SIV-B as its second stage with the brand new J2-S, and then there's the habitation module within the fairing, and then there's the Apollo Block III with my crew in it.

I wanted and was praying for my first spaceflight to go smoothly, in fact it sort of did went smoothly during take off on the 15th of March 1970 when the powerful F1-A engine boosted us to orbit along with the extended second stage, which turned out to be so efficient that it had extra fuel remaining to de-orbit itself or boost itself towards a lunar capture.

But then everything went to hell as soon as we reached orbit, depending on who's asking, it's either we were too complacent or legitimately serious with our concerns.

Once Mission Control told us that we were in a stable orbit, we waited for the 'Go' for transposition - that's when we blow the fairings apart and turn the Apollo craft around and dock with the habitation module. While we were waiting for the orders, I heard our pilot murmur something.

"What have you got there, Jack?" I asked our pilot, CSM Pilot Jack Cusher.

Jack shook his head, "I'm sorry, sir, but it seems that we're having anomalies with our RTG."

Great, I thought, the mini nuclear reactor was acting up, we'll go straight on Hiroshima if things go from bad to worst, and I'm pretty sure that there was no 'worse' between the two.

I pushed the comm-button, "Houston, we're having a problem here…our RTG is acting up."

The reply came, "This is CAPCOM; we see that from down here, Commander, however the engineers here are saying that you're still within the safe range."

"I hope so." commented Jack when he heard what they said.

"We go with the mission." I said, and then I pushed the comm-button again, "Houston, we're waiting for transposition here."

"This is Houston-FLIGHT, you are go for transposition in T-minus-thirty seconds on my mark….mark."

I kept an eye on the Apollo Flight Computer screen with the time counting down to transposition, when we heard the 'Go' signal through our Snoopy-caps, I pushed the decoupling button and we heard a soft 'thud' from somewhere behind us.

"We're free flying, Commander." said Jack.

We had a third guy aboard, he was the flight engineer who was to be our mechanic should something go wrong, "We're good so far." remarked Scott William.

"Thanks, Scotty." I said, referring to his nickname.

Jack was focused on his joystick, he was managing the thrusters of the Apollo CSM, "Man, the thrusters on this thing is weaker than a Mini Cooper!" he remarked.

I saw the Earth falling beneath us as the Apollo craft turned around, we came face-to-face with the maw of the docking port on top of the habitation module, "Alright, we're lined up now." said Jack.

"Bring it in." I said.

Jack gently brought the Apollo craft forward until our docking port came into contact with the other, we then heard a loud clunk and felt the whole craft jerk, "Soft contact." announced Jack.

I checked the indicators showing the docking status, "Noted, moving to hard dock." I said, reaching for the lever and pulling it, bringing us closer and establishing a firm connection between us and the habitation module. "Hard dock established." I announced.

"Whew, that went well." said Jack.

"Yup." agreed Scott.

"Now, let's have a look at the module." I said, twisting my helmet off and letting it float elsewhere, I quickly replaced it with a cowboy hat, much to the odd looks from my colleagues.

"You brought a cowboy hat…" said Jack.

I shrugged, "Why not? This hat came from my grandpa from the frontier days, this is the new frontier, isn't it?" I said as I floated forward towards the docking tunnel that led to the habitation module.

Now, we were promised a proper habitation module, meaning something that's meant to sustain us for our three week long mission in Low Earth Orbit, where we will be repeatedly testing our hardware. By god, you won't believe how furious I was when I saw the habitation module they gave us.

We were told that our habitation module were to have beds, lots of food and water, lots of supplies for us to survive, however by the looks of it, there was no space for supplies for a possible year long mission, not even enough for our three week mission.

I sighed, in fact I felt like the boilers of a steamship ready to blow up, I smashed on the comm-button, "Houston…I don't mean to complain, but where the fuck is our food, our water, and our survival hardware?"

There was silence for a while until maybe a minute later, "This is Houston-FLIGHT, we were informed that there is enough supplies aboard for a three week mission, in fact there are supposed to be containers filled with deadweight to simulate the other supplies that are only needed for a year long mission."

"Well, okay, I only see enough space for five big containers…and they're full of supplies, and by the looks of it…it could only supply barely our mission….and these containers look…and sound like sub-standard, no offense." I said, I knocked on one of the containers and it was nothing close to what those contractors showed to us back in Houston.

They said that it was supposed to be a whole bunch of proofs; explosion proof, bullet proof, fire proof, and I remembered that the versions they showed us on the ground felt like mini-bunkers or mini-battleships, the boxes with us now felt like wood.

"Well, this is bullshit!" I cursed, I began counting the supplies and we had…this habitation module had enough…for a week, based on the ration guidelines they gave us on eating our food supplies.

I saw a shadow cast upon me from behind, I turned around and saw Scott, "Chief, I hear that you're blowing steam, what's going on?"

"Well, this place is…sub-…shit." I sighed.

Things really do go from bad to worst when nuclear things are involved, not so long after my meltdown, another bad thing happened. Scott and I floated back to the Apollo module to conduct power tests, the reason why we had a redundancy of power supply was because the Apollo module would be sharing its power to the habitation module.

While the habitation module has its own set of batteries, it could only last for up to two weeks straight, a claim I began to doubt when I saw the maximum safe capacity of survival supplies, and as such it would end up having to rely on the Apollo module's RTG and solar panels.

"Are-…are you sure we can go…" I ended up saying to Scott as we floated back to our seats.

"Well, the systems are showing that we are go." said Scott, although he too sounded uncertain.

I sighed, "We carry on then." I said.

We sat back on our chairs, and Scott immediately began to go through the process of the power transfer, "Computer is going through the power transfer properly." announced Scott after he activated the computer program to automate the whole thing.

I glanced at the multi-function display, it seems good…so far. "Houston, we're conducting our power transfer." I said.

"Understood." said CAPCOM.

A few minutes later, we began smelling this unusual burning scent, "Is…is something burning?" said Jack, voicing out what we all had in our heads.

I sniffed the air and I did smell something burning, and it wasn't some overcooked steak. Allow me to put it this way, we were in an oxygen rich environment where all it takes is a single spark to turn this whole thing into a bomb.

We then heard a faint humming noise coming loudly from somewhere in front of us, "Close-…I'm closing the hatch." I managed to say, I was already reaching for the lever to shut the hatch as the words came out.

Just in the nick of time, it happened. We felt a sharp kick, like a big boot kicking our abdomen, and our worst fears were then made realized when Jack said, "Commander, we're spinning out of control, the RCS has been hit hard."

"DECOMPRESSION!" shouted Scott.

I immediately threw the hat away and reached for the helmet, "Scott, what's going on?" I said through our comm-bead.

"The docking port's blown off, I think something short-circuited in the habitation module…" Scott was saying.

"Guys, look…" said Jack, pointing at the window.

I looked out the window and saw the remains of a badly blown up and smashed modified SIV-B stage, the prototype of the soon to be SIV-C orbital variant which had a better RCS system and it was designed by Wernher Von Braun, unlike the habitation module…which was blown out of existence, thankfully.

"That's it, turn the thing to retrograde, we're re-entering immediately." I ordered, I relayed what happened to the understandably nervous Houston, and they concurred with my decision, apparently they lost contact with the habitation module's systems and were left clueless until I reported what happened.

We re-entered in less than thirty minutes, or more or less after one and a half orbits around the Earth, and touched down somewhere near Hawaii, where unluckily for that doggone son of a bitch Dr. Robbins, was standing there in the officer's quarters.

I stared at this Dr. Robbins, he began to say something, "I heard what happened-"

I took my helmet, which had cracks all over it and a dent at the frame due to me smashing my head at the console panel, and threw it at that man's face, by then Scott and Jack were restraining me and a bunch of Marines were pulling Dr. Robbins away from me. "You nearly got us killed, fucker!" I exclaimed at Robbins before my colleagues pulled me out of the room.

A subsequent investigation of the incident placed the blame on a faulty wiring caused by a defect in the specific circuit board unit installed aboard the habitation module, as for the claims by the crew that the habitation module was sub-standard, they were 'noted' by the investigating committee and the contractors promised improvements in the next test flight.

The next test flight went without any problems, and the incident with the first test flight was classified as a minor incident caused by oversights and as such the promised deadline of the 13th of August 1971 for the flight of the Apollo-Discworld remained.

I never liked the feeling of watching a launch on Friday the 13th, I'm no superstitious fool but given how the contractors have been lying and cutting corners, even after they promised (maybe with a twisting finger behind them) NASA that they'll get their act together and improve.

As the backup crew, Scott, Jack, and I were given some special privileges, such as access to Mission Control for the duration of the mission, we were even given a pair of headsets to listen in on the conversation, but we were not allowed to talk to the astronauts.

I didn't get to see the tests of the NERVA engine, but based on Von Braun's facial expressions when he was at the Mission Control room, I have a bad feeling someone had been cutting corners even with the dangerous engine. I hope that this mission would go well, as any failure might mean the Russians getting the upper hand, and the last time we heard from them was that they've managed to launch a circum-lunar mission, something like their own Apollo 8, in other words, they were getting close.

We watched the clock countdown, we heard the Go/No-Go poll of the systems and their Flight Officers, the launch was to be directed by none other than Flight Director Gene Kranz, the man who directed the Flight Officers during the crisis that was Apollo 13…which was also caused by the contractors cutting corners with the Block II Apollo module.

Someone placed a TV set on top of a shelf where we watched the TV coverage of the launch, the Saturn V - with its stretched first stage, second stage, and nuclear stage, as well as its boosters - was at the pad, ready to blast off.

"We are now at T-minus-twenty seconds…the astronauts have reported that all things are go…" said Jack King, the Public Affairs Officer.

We eventually proceeded to terminal count from T-minus-ten seconds downwards, including the final 'launch commit' from the Flight Director which was NASA's go-to word for 'release the clamps.'

The Saturn V with those brand new boosters were a sight to watch, although it seemed that the man who designed the Saturn V, Wernher Von Braun, was shaking his head, and I did learn eventually that he was supposed to be in Florida at the Kennedy Firing Room at the Kennedy Space Center rather than Mission Control.

The mission went smoothly, the boosters decoupled around after two minutes or so, which was followed up by Main-Engine Cut Off, and then stage separation, and then the Second Engine Ignition of the second stage, eventually that was finished up and came the fateful and pivotal moment.

"You are go for Nuclear Engine Ignition." CAPCOM relayed to the men up there; Baxter, Tupinov, and Samson.

I took deep breaths as they went through the engine ignition, the Flight Officer in charge of the rocket, the position aptly named Booster, began reading the call outs, "Reactor power in nominal level, cooling system nominal, we have-…we have ignition…spooling up to full power."

"Trajectory is good, they have a good ten minutes before hitting the apex." said the Trajectory Flight Officer. If the NERVA engine and its slow spool up were to ignite only after hitting the apex, they were doomed to crash back to Earth, not to mention the low thrust-to-weight ratio of the NERVA engine meant that they have no way to recover from their drop.

After three minutes or so, the Booster Flight Officer announced, "We have full power on the engine."

"Yes, their trajectory concurs." said Trajectory.

We were left in unease throughout the whole orbital coasting period, where the spacecraft was to orbit the Earth three times, or about two and a half hours, in order to check through the systems. "This is CAPCOM, you are go for T.D.I." or Trans-Disc Injection.

I glanced at the screen of the Booster Flight Officer's console and I saw the energy readings jumping wildly, Scott must have saw what I was looking at because he exclaimed, "The engine-…" but then he paused as the readings spiked suddenly.

We glanced at one another, that's when the Booster Flight Officer announced, "We're having an anomaly…there is a energy spike with the engine…"

"We lost contact." interrupted CAPCOM.

The Flight Director furrowed his brows, "Surgeon, what are their life-signs?"

The Surgeon Flight Officer shook his head, "Flight…we…I read nothing."

One of the large screens at the front showed the data readings from the Booster Flight Officer and the line graph resembled Mount Everest, to say the least of it, it went upwards before crashing down to zero.

"Who here is reading nothing?" asked the Flight Director, the replies could have been confused for the Go/No-Go Poll, everyone was blank when it came to the data. By then, the Flight Director sighed and said stoically and seriously, "I'm declaring an emergency, no one gets in or gets out until we have a clear view of what happened….I need reports from Goldstone tracking station, they were the last to have received all the data before beaming it back to us."

I knew there and then that NASA screwed up.

_"The men who volunteered and were ordained to go to space is bound to stay in space, these brave men, Baxter, Tupinov, and Samson, have laid down their lives to the pursuit of science in the grand dream to land humans on another planet, and to the even higher understanding of truth and knowledge of our universe._

_I have personally reached out to their widows and the children they have left behind, to offer assistance for the bravery of their great and bold husbands and fathers who knew that there was no hope for their recovery during what had happened._

_There will be other beyond them who will look up to them as martyrs who laid their lives so others may live, they shall be buried with full military honors in Arlington Cemetery as heroes, alongside the other great heroes of the United States._

_We will push through, exploration of the frontier is no easy task, it's not for the faint of heart, we must push through as it is the only way onwards, imagine if our forefathers decided to surrender to the British after the first deaths in the revolution, we would have never earned our freedom._

_For now, however, we mourn these three bold men, and I will be holding those responsible for this disaster to account."_ \- President Muffley's address to the nation after the disaster.

From James Kelly's memoirs:

We never recovered the bodies, we never did, the thing they buried at Arlington were nothing more than empty caskets, but if it gave some closure to the nation and the families of our honorable colleagues, then let it be. The nation entered three days of mourning, a day each for the three lives lost, and I ended up becoming known for the astronaut-cowboy who fought for justice, mainly because I had my hat on my head most of the time during the TV interviews.

I lambasted and called out Dr. Robbins and challenged him to face a Grand Jury for what he and his team did, I knew they wanted the money from the Federal coffers which was why they had cut corners…the bastards.

After the burial, the Administrator of NASA and Wernher Von Braun managed to find me at the roadside just outside of Arlington Cemetery, "Mister Kelly," began the Administrator, "you are officially in charge of the mission, the President has given me orders to push through with the mission and I'm putting your crew in charge."

I nodded, "Yes sir, for my colleagues." I said, trying not to be too emotional, but showing enough emotions to tell these two that I was in mourning along with the nation.

"I was put in charge as well by President Muffley," said Dr. Braun, "we're pushing through with our proposal and we can launch by 1974, and we'll do so safely." he then sighed and shook his head, "They just had to skip the deep space probe plans, it was important to get orbital and navigational data, I had doubts if they could have even made a orbital capture with the Discworld with their incomplete data."

"Enough with them." I said, "It's time we push through with your sure plans."

"We will." said the Administrator, "See you next Wednesday at Houston, you'll be starting your training."


End file.
